


hang me up to dry

by artxsts



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic, the foxhole court
Genre: Binging, Blow Jobs, Eating Disorders, M/M, but not really blow jobs, if you have an eating disorder do not read this it is seriously triggering, it has no satisfying sexual content lmao, like not at all it's debatable, slight dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 11:50:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6609646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artxsts/pseuds/artxsts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a chance he’s been looking at the food with a pondering gaze for far too long. Andrew picks up on it, obviously.<br/>(neil is not okay, this is a drabble)</p>
            </blockquote>





	hang me up to dry

**Author's Note:**

> hi I wrote this in like 2 days it is the worst thing i have ever written but i am posting it because WHY not !!! ok grammatical errors should be expected I never capitalise but i tried
> 
> ANYWAY, this is triggering please don't read it if you have had or have an eating disorder. It was literally very triggering for me to write but once i have an idea lemme tell u i do not let go of it! Secondly my knowledge on this subject is not vast it is contained to one specific experience I am aware of and I haven't researched this or anything so all people are different and this experience can differ from another entirely.
> 
> Secondly there is a scene where some stuff is gonna happen and neil wants to say stop straight away but he doesnt but then andrew gets the message even when neil doesn't say anything and it STOps! ok that could be triggering but i think andrew handled that ok. 
> 
> also there is technically no smut in this!!

It’s a Thursday when Neil skips his first meal. He does it without realising; Nicky had been in Germany for a month and was finally back, the foxes were having a little welcome home dinner at Abby’s. The night was shaping up to be good, filled with festivities, drinks, good food and the closest thing to family Neil had. Aaron and Andrew were sitting at opposite ends of the table so no conflict resulted there, though, you’d have to be an idiot not to see Andrew sparing a moment to glare at Katelyn every so often. Everybody else who you’d expect to wear a smile on their face was laughing, joking about bets and piling food on to their plates, complimenting abby’s cooking. Even Kevin was smiling, in an endearing ‘ _i hate all of you’_ sort of way, still, he was smiling.  Neil was too.

Though there was an itch under his skin, one resultant of stress and what felt like more weight on his shoulders than ever to be successful now. He ignored it, he’d been ignoring it a lot lately. He tried his best to appear at ease, he was doing fine as well, not being chipper— but his normal self. He was taking in his friends, their warmth and the brightness radiating off even the meanest of them. He looked to his right, Andrew — already stuffing his face with what Neil thought to be mashed potatoes. His stomach rumbled but he continued with his distracted gaze, Matt was seated in front of him, also with a spoonful in his mouth, but his eyes were trained on dan as she spoke. His eyes looked inexplicably bigger and glossier every time he looked at her, like they were made just for looking at her, he looked dumb. Neil sure as hell hoped he didn’t look like that when he looked at Andrew.

“Neil, _jesus_ ,” It’s Nicky, he’s looking at Neil with a sort of bewildered look on his face, and so is everyone else.

He looks around questioningly,

“what..” if he’s scared by all the sudden attention he tries not to show it.

“your stomach hasn’t shut up for a full ten minutes, put something on your plate, it’s goddamn empty ** _!_** ” he squeaks back, the whole table agreeing with huffs and slews of ‘for fucks sake josten,’

He looks at everyone’s plates, full to the brim. And back at his own, pure white, not a single drop of anything— not even a crumb. His eyes are trained on the food in the middle of the table and he realises he’s not hungry. He doesn’t think he is at least. If anything he feels a bit sick looking at the masses of food. He doesn’t know why— he’s never turned down a meal— he’s not a serial eater like Andrew, the man will stuff anything down his throat. Neil’s never looked at food and thought I can’t before. He supposes he’s been thinking about his health, his diet, his weight, a little more recently. Only because he has the pressure of being good at Exy and making a real career out of it on his back now. He didn’t actively think about changing his diet. Anyway, that has nothing to do with any of this— he’s just not hungry.

There’s a chance he’s been looking at the food with a pondering gaze for far too long. Andrew picks up on it, obviously.

Before he knows it there’s a spoonful of mashed potatoes being dropped down on to his plate,

“ _eat._ ” it comes from the mouth of an angry blonde haired boy to his right. The table erupts back in to normal conversation while Neil picks at his food. He wants to eat, or at least try— for Andrew, but it’s a lie to say he doesn’t feel like throwing up right there.

* * *

 

Weeks go by, his appetite has diminished.

Andrew doesn’t notice, at least— Neil thinks he doesn’t notice. There weren’t many times where they bonded over food anyways. Eating was always something Andrew would do around Neil, it wasn’t strange that Neil wasn’t joining in.

Other things get complicated though. There’s the issue of clothing— before all of this Neil was finally getting more comfortable to wear short sleeves or low cut shirts (around Andrew at least) but everyday he feels like he’s concentrating more and more on the lean and taunt muscles of his team-mates. They all seem in so much better shape than him. When he looks in the mirror, before he takes a shower, or in the morning to get ready, his eyes linger on his arms— they don’t seem as firm anymore, he thinks they look like they’re getting a little bigger. His mind will float to matt and his thin but muscular frame, Kevin and his medium build, all biceps and triceps and everything-inbetween-ceps. Then there was Andrew who Neil saw so much of. His veiny arms and firm muscle that Neil has felt with his own hands, his arms don’t look like they feel like that.

He feels a need to cover up again. He starts wearing baggy sweaters and long-sleeved shirts. They do well to cover up the tummy he thinks he’s starting to sport.

Then there are the complications surrounding when things get heated between the two of them. Before this ‘ordeal’ had started Neil was always eager to get his shirt off, it felt freeing to be with someone so intamately that you were able to show them all of you. Now though, their make-out sessions always end in un-satsifying fustration. It goes like this. They’ll kiss, Neil will have his hands on Andrew’s neck—kneading them in carefully as he holds himself back to just kissing, just this. When Andrew’s hands begin to linger downwards, Towards his hips— Neil will tense up. He wants to be touched by Andrew, he really does, but there are specific areas of himself which he has started to become so uncomfortable with, his hips in particular. He can’t help but tense up. Andrew has enough knowledge on discomfort that he knows to stop, he can sense the way Neil falters in his kiss or his hands stopping minutely. He doesn’t ask any questions. Sometimes they’ll keep kissing, sometimes they’ll just stop. Sit down next to each other, hands together and Andrew’s thumb tracing patterns on Neil’s wrist.

They’re on the roof together one day when Andrew says something profoundly out-there for Andrew.

“We’re going backwards,” he says it, like a fact.

Neil isn’t sure how to reply, so he looks down. It’s an apology.

It also translates to, I have no clue what I’m doing.

* * *

 

Neil’s sex drive is down completely. There are a few moments though, where he feels up to it. It’s not as if he’s going to act on any of his desires. Not when there’s a risk of Andrew running his hands over the pounds of fat Neil is adamant cover his body.

On this particular night though, Andrew had decided to go to sleep shirtless. This happens once a decade and Neil can’t help but shudder at the thought that dunes of tan milky skin, Andrew’s skin, are right beside him untouched. His mind is wondering to thoughts of touching Andrew and doing things for him, making him happy. It’s those thoughts that are driving him crazy right now. He can feel himself getting hard and he can not be hard thinking about andrew while he is sleeping right next to him, it’s unfair, it’s creepy— he’s already shifting to leave the bed, to sit on the couch and watch T.V until his brain is fried but a hand is reaching out to touch his sweater clad arm.

“neil, stay”

and that’s all the convincing Neil needs to lay back down. Making sure not to touch Andrew, he doesn’t want him finding out he’s hard.

“can I blow you?” hearing those words come out of Andrew’s mouth feels a lot like Déjà vu. 

Neil stops breathing at that. The offer is there and he wants it more than anything. But he can’t risk it, can’t risk Andrew touching him. He wishes he could say no but the truth is, his ignored desire is trumping any of Neil’s issues with his image right now. He let’s out an uneasy “mhm” caught on a gulp in his throat.

“Give me a real answer, Yes or no?” he’s firm when he says it, like it’s the most important thing in the world, it is.

“yes”

That’s all the permission Andrew needs. He makes his way in between Neil’s legs. Andrew’s hands on his hips. Neil’s hyperaware of those hands, even as Andrew begins to suck him off. Truthfully, Neil thinks he could come at any second, Andrew’s mouth is travelling up and down his length in fast slick movements. But then his arms start to travel upwards. Neil shudders as they rest on his lower stomach. He’s clenching his jaw; begging himself not to say anything. There’s a conflict going on inside him, part of him is dying to release, to finally spill months of frustration, the other part is holding itself back from yelling stop, I can’t have your hands there _stop._

Andrew’s hands are going higher, and for a brief moment they falter, as if they’ve just discovered something. And then they start moving again, in a more calculated way; Like they’re exploring new terrain. They run over the new indentations of Neil’s prominent ribcage— Andrew has never felt those before, his hands run over each bone, he can pinch every singular one. Then his hands are ghosting in to the large dip underneath Neil’s ribcage, ending on his hipbones, sharper than ever. 

Neil doesn’t realise he’s crying until Andrew’s fingers are on his hipbones. 

“ _A-andrew_ ” it comes out broken and he’s fairly sure it’s coming out of his mouth accompanied by a loud sob. 

Andrew is off Neil faster than humanly possible. Neil didn’t tell him to stop but the sound of his voice was enough of a signal as any. 

He goes over what he felt dumbly. He wants to punch Neil in the face for doing this to himself. At the same time he wants to be soft, so soft with him and ask him why. But he can’t say anything, he just stares forward, to the dark outline of Neil’s shaking face. The whole time Andrew is asking himself, how did I let this happen, how did I not see this. How was I so dumb. _I did this to him._

Neil pulls his pants up and rushes out of the room. Andrew gives him his space. 

The next day they pretend it didn’t happen. Well Neil does, Andrew tries to. Despite how hard he’s trying it’s obvious to Neil a switch has turned on in Andrew. Something which tells Neil that the blonde has a new goal now. He feels like now more than ever Andrew’s eyes are always on him. He’s not complaining, Andrew’s attention never bothered him before. 

Andrew will do little things now, inconspicuous things which he thinks Neil won’t notice.  He doesn’t really care if Neil notices or not actually. 

They’ll be sitting down on the couch, watching a pointless show and Andrew as always will pull a snack out of his invisible hoard. Lately they’ve been healthy snacks (which is so unlike Andrew, Neil almost scoffs when he sees him pull out a banana) Neil will keep his eyes forward, pretending he doesn’t notice the food, even while Andrew is unwrapping it or peeling it. Praying Andrew doesn’t offer him any. Of course— that’s his technique now, so Andrew will break off a quarter of what he’s eating and hand it to Neil. It’s still too much but Neil never says anything, just like he never says anything when he wordlessly takes the piece. 

Sometimes it will take up to an hour for Neil to finish quarter of a banana, two hours if it’s a protein bar— putting off the thought of adding on any meat as much as possible. 

Andrew only offers so little because he knows what happens when you go too far with Neil. 

The best example of _pushing_ Neil too far, unintentionally, happened on a drive back from columbia. Nicky is begging Andrew to pull in to a Mcdonalds drive thru, and Aaron and Kevin are agreeing begrudgingly, hungry and hungover. Andrew is chancing questioning looks at Neil and Neil simply nods. He’s fine with others eating around him. His boyfriend is Andrew goddamn Minyard.

They pull up to the window and Nicky is sticking his head out of the car, and ordering in mass amounts.

“yeah, five cheeseburger meals all with large fries-”

Neil’s cutting him off before he can even finish his sentence’ “’m not hungry nicky”

nicky looks at him incredulously, not believing Neil who hasn’t eaten once on this trip would not be hungry, “Fine.” He turns back to the speaker “make that four cheeseburger meals with large fries and one with just the cheeseburger”

Neil’s protesting straight away and Andrew is already telling Nicky to change the order, everybody is honestly confused as to why the two of them are making such a big deal out of this, they spend a while fighting amongst each other. So when Nicky finally turns back to change the order the screen already has “thank you, please drive thru” in red electronic lettering written on it.

Andrew drives but spares a glance at Neil’

“Don’t freak out,” he says it under his breath, his voice coming out slightly raspy. It's all the smoking. Neil just nods.

Neil doesn’t plan on touching his burger when it’s given to him but the monsters are all unwrapping their's hastily, sounds of chewing and life not standing still are bewildering him. They’re making jokes and hitting each other and laughing, not even thinking about what they’re putting in to their mouths.

There’s this sudden immense pressure to eat his burger now. He wants to fit in and not draw attention to himself.

So he takes a bite, and another,and another each portion of chewing taking him a good 40 seconds. He finishes half his burger.

They’re on the freeway and it’s immensely hard to pull over on to the small shoulder at this speed. But when Neil lets out a shaky 'stop the car’ Andrew is swerving the car on to the side of the road in a fashion which sends the other three foxes in to fits of anger. They don’t really notice Neil has left the car until they hear retching sounds coming from outside.

Andrew saw this happening as soon as Neil began eating that burger but didn’t say anything, figuring Neil had his reasons for pushing himself so heavily. It’s fortunate that the rest of the foxes can’t see Neil in the act of it, doubled over and with a finger down his throat.

When he gets back in the car Nicky lets out a baffled,

“ _damn,_ what was in that burger ** _!_** ” And looks at his own almost finished one with distaste.

Neil sighs and buries his head in his arms, steadying his breathing and willing himself to stay grounded.

It’s another two days before Andrew can go back to his old routine of slowly building up Neil’s appetite again.

* * *

 

Another thing that happens while Neil is beginning to recover again is Andrew seeing his body.

as per usual Andrew is the only one clued in to Neil’s state and as per usual Neil gets more comfortable around Andrew.

The first time it happens it’s in the morning, the sun is shining through their windows in orange glimmers and Neil’s top has ridden halfway-up his stomach, the sun is marking his tan skin with stripes of warm color and Andrew wakes up blearily to the sound of Neil’s stomach grumbling, something which has become an insufferable common occurrence. There’s an unidentifiable feeling in the pit of his stomach when he looks at Neil though, peaceful and basking in the morning light. Frail bones covered in thin layers of muscle which have diminished steadily over time.

It’s only a minute or two before Neil wakes up, he says he’s not hungry but Andrew knows for a fact it’s the hunger pains which wake him up, he always has a grimace on his face when he does.

When Neil see’s Andrew staring he immediately goes to pull down his shirt but Andrew’s hands are there,stopping him. His grip is forceful but Neil is not weak, he is malnourished but he will never be _weak._

Andrew moves to straddle Neil’s hips, it’s a strange position for him but the only one which what makes what he’s about to do easier. He clutches the end of Neil’s shirt between the tips of his fingers,

“Yes or no?”

Neil is considering how wrong this could go, but he is also considering his trust in Andrew. Looking up and seeing Andrew’s stony expression, the same lack of softness, it’s reassuring, grounding.

“yes.”

Andrew is peeling the shirt of, telling himself it’s only in Neil’s best interest to draw out the process but in reality there’s a part of him which isn’t sure he wants to see the damage Neil has done to himself.

Andrew just raises his eyebrows mildly when the shirt’s off. Outwardly remaining stony. But he would be lying is if he said he wasn't shocked by the way Neil’s previously toned abs and naturally soft sides had all sunken in. Deflated.

He leans down then, not letting Neil gage his reaction. He starts by feeling the expanse of his torso, the bones which are so visible. He runs his hands over scars to tell himself that this is still his Neil. He remembers the first time he touched this Neil, remembers the way he cried, the way Neil never cries. He looks up, his face is stronger now, set in stone, Andrew appreciates that.

It’s when Andrew starts kissing each of Neil’s ribs and running his thumbs in hard circles on their edges that Neil starts to say Andrew’s name, In a very softly emotive, breathy voice. And Andrew doesn’t respond, finishing each and every rib before sitting back up and rolling off Neil to lay back down in his previous position. He wasn’t going to talk to Neil about it, it was too much for Andrew to tell Neil that he was still beautiful that he was still _okay_. So the kisses were a translation.

Neil is so exhausted (as he is usually these days) that he feels back asleep. He looks peaceful. Andrew hasn’t fucked up

* * *

 

Time goes by like this. Andrew appreciating Neil and feeding him every so often until he can start to see Neil again. _Really see him._

Their routine in the morning has become the kisses and today Neil stops Andrew before he can roll back over.

Andrew appreciates silently, the new glimmer in Neil’s eyes; he hasn’t seen it in a while. The ghost of a small smile on his lips, the tiny dimple coming out of hiding.

Neil leans up and kisses Andrew, it’s not like they haven’t kissed recently, but this kiss is everything. It’s stale cigarettes and the apple Neil almost fully ate yesterday, strawberry chewing gum, it’s a means to an end.

Neil leans back from the kiss silent and strangely shy.

“I was thinking, if you’re up for it, we could maybe go out for breakfast today?”

and Andrew is so relieved that he thinks his brain might melt to goo right there.

“ _302%_ ”

and Andrew’s getting up off the bed in a quick motion,

“get the fuck up josten, we’re going out”

 

That day Neil eats three quarters of a pancake (with syrup) and doesn’t throw it up later. He eats again for dinner. Andrew can breathe again.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and feedback are appreciated i wants 2 kno what ya think (wow the grammar, im such a writer man)


End file.
